The caravan traveled for a day and, as evening approached, chose to stop near a valley.
Everyone's luck had been decent that day — they only encountered three small beast packs.
After killing two of them and driving off the third, the spoils from the slaughtered beasts actually turned a modest profit, even accounting for the losses.
The evening sky was ablaze with layers of sunset clouds.
Scarlet, tangerine, grape-gray, eggplant-purple — the clouds blazed in a riot of shifting colors, constantly transforming. Now they resembled a roaring lion, now a celestial horse in mid-gallop, now a sea of flowers in full bloom.
The rosy light bathed the emerald-green valley like a jewel. The caravan had set up camp within it, and in one corner a small area had been cordoned off, alive with the clamor of voices.
"Come, come, take a look! Freshly butchered beast meat from today!"
"Cream drink, sweet cream drink..."
"Only ten pieces of clothing left — clearance sale!"
Fang Yuan and Bai Ningbing were among the crowd.
They had dragged their cart into a spot, with a wild vegetable stall to their left and a milk vendor to their right.
Bai Ningbing looked around with visible interest. "I didn't expect a merchant caravan to have a little market like this."
"Where there's demand, there's trade. Consumption stimulates the market," Fang Yuan replied.
Bai Ningbing's eyes flickered — that was a remarkably apt observation.
She looked at Fang Yuan. "Are you going to sell all of these purple maple leaves?"
Fang Yuan gave a slight nod. "Now that we've joined the caravan, I'll just offload these purple maple leaves. Keeping them on us would only attract the covetous eyes of petty scavengers."
Moreover, purple maple leaves were not easy to preserve.
After barely a day, the purple maple leaves on Fang Yuan's cart had already begun to wither. As time passed, their value would only decrease.
Of course, a mere two Yuan Stones were nothing Fang Yuan cared about.
However, simply discarding them on the ground wouldn't fit their current identity and would arouse suspicion.
"The small markets in a caravan come in two types," Fang Yuan said. "The one we're at now is just trades between mortals — it happens almost every day. The other type is trading between Gu Masters, held once every seven days."
Beneath the shadow of her straw hat, Bai Ningbing's blue eyes brightened slightly. "If we could attend the Gu Master market, it would be helpful. We still have a long way to go to Merchant City, and to prepare for any emergencies, we'll need at least one scouting Gu."
"I already have plans for that, though it's still a bit early," Fang Yuan said, a confident smile forming as he thought of something within the Tushita Flower.
The two were speaking in low voices.
A male household slave stumbled toward them.
His clothes were in tatters, his face smeared with blood, making him look like a beggar. He walked up to the stall beside Fang Yuan, stared at the clay jar of milk, and swallowed hard. "Brother, could you spare me a sip of milk?"
"Go away, go away! Don't interfere with my business!" The milk vendor waved his hand dismissively.
The slave had no choice but to move on and shuffled to Fang and Bai's cart. "You two brothers..."
Before he could finish, Fang Yuan stepped forward, kicked him to the ground, and snarled: "Scram."
The slave tumbled to the ground, black mud smearing his ragged clothes. The fall aggravated his wounds, making him grimace in pain.
He struggled back to his feet and glared at Fang Yuan with hatred. "Fine, I'll remember this. We're all mortals — who knows when you'll be the one in need. Hmph..."
Fang Yuan's expression turned cold, and he kicked the man again.
Crack.
The slave hit the ground once more.
"Say one more word and try me." Fang Yuan looked down at him.
The slave shot Fang Yuan one final venomous glare, climbed to his feet, but dared not utter another word.
But moments later, Fang Yuan kicked him down again.
"I don't like the way you look at me." Fang Yuan crossed his arms, his voice ice-cold.
The slave hung his head and averted his gaze, not daring to look at Fang Yuan again. He quietly picked himself up and, not daring to beg in this area any longer, shambled away.
Watching his retreating figure, Bai Ningbing asked in puzzlement, "Strange — how does a merchant caravan have beggars?"
"That's perfectly normal. This slave must have committed some offense, or his master was in a bad mood today. Either way, he was beaten by a Gu Master and had his food rations cut off." Fang Yuan shrugged, but his gaze drifted coldly toward a nearby corner.
In the corner, three or four burly household slaves were scoping out new faces, plotting how to bully the newcomers.
After witnessing what had just happened to Fang Yuan, they quickly shifted their attention to other targets.
Mortal lives were cheap, their status impossibly low, their survival a tightrope walk. In a caravan, Gu Masters could kill or beat them on a whim — their lives were worth less than grass. After all, they could always be replenished from villages along the route.
Every time the caravan encountered danger, a great many mortals lost their lives.
Beyond that, there was a near-brutal dark competition among the mortals themselves. Fang Yuan had barely arrived before two groups of troublemakers had already targeted him.
He was certainly not afraid of such trouble, but whenever it could be resolved easily, he preferred to deal with it preemptively.
Of course, some mortals lived relatively well.
Most of them had connections, related in some way to a Gu Master or another, and used that backing to lord over others.
After the begging slave departed, two groups of people arrived.